“Come, children,” she called, “we were going to catch crabs for dinner, you know. We must be going back.”
So they went back up the dim little path to Lookout Rock and began to pick their way down from there as best they could.
“Why, Marian,” called Delbert, “Mr. Pearson has moved the launch. It is not by the rocks now. Where’s he gone?”
Marian glanced up.
“I guess he thought we were pretty long in coming and has gone exploring on his own hook,” she said.
“I’ll see,” said Delbert, and he went out to where he could see the water all around the end of the Island and in to the little pier.
“No,” he said, as he came back, “he has not gone round there.”
They went on down the hill.
“I don’t see why he should move it,” persisted Delbert. “That is the best place for it on this side of the Island, and this is the best beach for bathing.”
They went over to where the things were piled up. Pearson had dumped them all together and thrown one of the launch blankets over them; and on top of this a note was pinned with two wooden splinters.